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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984288">Day 343</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard'>Josh_the_Bard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Year in Kirkwall [343]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lady Elegant/Wendalin (Dragon Ahe OC)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Year in Kirkwall [343]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day 343</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Last Elegant tipped the bottle as far back as she could, coaxing the last few drops out. She wasn’t normally prone to overindulgence, but this had been an unprecedented week. While it had been entertaining watching Lady Regner drag her husband out of the keep by his balls Kirkwall was in no better a position then it had been before. Lord Regner might never show his face in public again, but Hawke hadn’t gotten enough votes to be crowned Viscount either. Being a mage who favoured the elves over the humans of Kirkwall had earned him the mistrust of all but the most forward thinking nobles. No one wanted the Champion to leave Kirkwall or be chained to the CIrcle, but neither did they want him charting the course for the city. When Meredith had swooped in and declared herself the interim leader of Kirkwall until a suitable Viscount could be found, no one had protested.</p><p>Months of work, of trading favors, building alliances, and planting rum ours had all come crashing down in a matter of days. Not to mention the devastation the battle with the apostates had wrought across the lower (meaning poorer) districts of the city.</p><p>Before marrying Wndalin, Elegant had lived in one of the neighborhoods that had been hit. Her mother had worked in the Rose, and her father had worked the mines. They had spent nearly all the money they had to buy her an apprenticeship with an apothecary. Her parents were both dead now, but they had lived long enough to see Elegant complete her training. How far she had come since that day, now she casually downed bottles of wine more expensive than the house she grew up in.</p><p>Lady Elegant reached for another bottle but Wendalin caught her arm. </p><p>“Is fine,” she said, turning to her husband. “Only had one so far.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t be drinking alone,” Wendalin said. He looked sad, but not his regular sad, so that was good.</p><p>“You can’t drink,” Elegant protested. “It makes you ill.”</p><p>“I have something else in mind,” Wendalin said, gently pulling Elegant towards the front door. Elegant was a bit unsteady on her feet, she couldn’t have resisted even if she wanted to. Which she wasn’t sure she did. Wendalin took her all the wad down to Lowtown, the Hanged Man.</p><p>Hawke, Varric, Merrill and Noll sitting around Varric’s private table, drinking, laughing and playing cards. They looked up when Elegant arrived and Varric waved her over with a smile.</p><p>“Come on over Lady Lotus,” he said. “What brings you here?”</p><p>“We’re looking for stories of course,” Wendalin said. “I heard a rumour yours are the best in town.”</p><p>Norra from the bar had a drink poured and placed before Lady Elegant was all the way in her seat. Noll dealt Elegant and Wendelin into the game of Wicked Grace and she threw her some silver down.</p><p>“I’ve heard of your efforts on behalf of the Alienage,” they said with a slight nod of approval.</p><p>“For all the good they’ve done.”</p><p>“Still,” Noll said. “It’s good to know that not all the humans think alike.”</p><p>Elegant broke eye contact under the gaze of the elven leader. She didn’t need another reminder of plans that had come to naught.</p><p>“Hawke,” she said looking further down the table, “How is the orphanage coming along?”</p><p>“Slowly,” he said bitterly. It seemed she was not the only one dwelling on her failure tonight. “It turns out renovating a building takes more time than building a new one from scratch. Never mind the logistics of getting enough food and -”</p><p>“We came here for stories,” Wendalin cut in.</p><p>“What are we in the mood for?” Varric asked the group. “An epic tale of adventure and heroics?”</p><p>“By the maker no!” Hawke protested. “I’ve had my fill of heroics for the week.”</p><p>“A nice happy story sounds good right about now,” Elegant agreed.</p><p>“Maybe something with griffins in it?” Merrill added.</p><p>“Heartwarming with griffins,” Varris said thoughtfully. “Let’s see… Have I ever told you about the time my mother bought what she thought was a silverite mine in the Anderfells?”</p><p>They all shook their heads and Varric smiled, raising the bet and downing his ale.</p><p>“No shit, there I was at the bottom of what was supposed to be a mine brimming with untapped ore...”</p>
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